It’s 11 on Friday night. Party week looms, so I’m sleeping in late tomorrow.
I’ve earned it, cycling about 40 kilometres today. Wahoo. Gettin’ there. I’m sore. I work in downtown Vancouver, so it’s easy to cycle the seawall after work, so I did a 27 km stretch of Vancouver’s friggin’ awesome seawall. But I did 13 km before work today, so. I rock. Seawall: Great place to see singles on weekend nights sometimes.
I have no alcohol for medicating, which I will remedy tomorrow on slacker day. Except I plan to do 100 stomach crunches. Disgusting, no? Might as well embrace the pain that onsets tomorrow, then take Sunday off completely.
I’m sleeping until early morning, getting up, stretching a whole bunch while I watch a movie, hydrate, and smoke pot, then I’m going back to bed until I fucking well want. I am celebrating with a wake-n-bake weekend.
I wanna sleep till three? Fucking A. Tomorrow is THAT day. Kickass.
Know what it is? Finally understanding the old saying: “Why do I keep hitting myself on the head with a hammer? ‘Cause it feels so good when I stop.”
Happy weekend, minions.
Ahh, party week! I’m so ready for you. But I’m more ready for my bed. I love a well-deserved sleep-in! Envy me!
